Two days ago, a languid ginger tomcat walked across our porch. Maeve was a little afraid of him till he rubbed up against her leg. Then she squeaked, He petted me! He WUFFS me! and she was in love. He wandered up and down the porch for awhile, content with my pets and trying to avoid Maeve who was running up and down yelling kitty kitty kitty come here come here come here NOW.
And then he buggered off, as cats do, and Maeve cried for almost half an hour. She kept telling me he wants to come back and play with me! And I kept telling her, cats do their own thing, and he doesn't belong to us. Now he's just a happy memory, especially since I found her a calico beanie baby who is now her kitty, which she named Figaro, like the one on Minnie Mouse cartoons.
Stuffed animals are doing the trick for right now, and she hasn't put together the ideas well enough to actually ask for a pet, but I know if she did that's all I'd be hearing about. I got her a little black stuffed dog who looks like her grandparents' dog, and she immediately named him Junior, after the shitzu-pom mix he resembles. She informed me that he came from the forest and loves root beer.
I'm considering getting her a fish for her third birthday; something low maintenance that we can put up on a shelf that she can't reach, so we don't find all her teacups thrown in the tank because the fish got thirsty. But I don't think there will be any four-legged pets around here until she gets a little older, and we actually get a fence put up.
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